Life Without Mother

Dear Mom,

Wasn’t sure I’d write today. Questioned whether or not to even mention today. Honestly, all I remember of celebrating your birthday was trying to get red velvet cake — your favorite. At least, I’m pretty sure it was your favorite.

That’s the frustrating thing, there are so many pieces of you I can’t remember — or I think I do but maybe I’m just filling in gaps with fiction. Make it sound good. Sweetly nostalgic.

Anyway, I kept going back and forth in whether to write. Until I looked through Facebook memories, saw the birthday posts from prior years, and got caught up in the loving and reminiscent comments from friends and family.

It’s hard to post because sometimes, I’m in a place of smiles and “one day we’ll be together in Heaven.”

Other days, it’s tears and “one day we’ll be together in Heaven.”

Today, perhaps a little of both. Praise God, the truth of our reunion will not change. And that gives the freedom to grieve not “as those without hope,” but as one whose hope is secure.

I just wish I could call and wish you a “Happy Birthday!” Tell you all of the life updates — about the job hunt, the new apartment, my new roommate (who is wonderful!), and all the other things going on. Ask you what the top three pieces of advice you’d give to those younger than you. Ask one thing you’ve learned in the last year. Ask all the questions I didn’t think to ask.

I’m grateful. Grateful for the full 18 years I had with you. For the letter you wrote my senior year (that would probably answer that advice question). For all of the friends and family you poured into to whom I can now go with my questions.

I may cry a little today, missing your presence here, remembering joy when I think of you. It would be easy to remember the depression, those dark moments when I didn’t always know you — which side of you I would talk to. But, what never changed was how you sought joy. You clung to Jesus in your sorrow — you didn’t give up.

And that’s the legacy you left. One I pray to carry on each day.

I miss you and love you. Happy Birthday, Mom.

Your daughter,
Hannah